Eternity
by Lael Adair
Summary: You never really know how precious something is...until you lose it. -complete-
1. Lost and Found

     This story features portions from the Sonic Underground television series mixed with parts of the Sonic the Hedgehog video games. You don't really need to know that much to enjoy it, particularly if you've played at least one of the video games, but **I would suggest for those of you who've never seen Sonic Underground that you read **up on it a bit before you start. Trust me: It will definitely make the story more enjoyable. **The recommendations I have listed below** are short **(maybe two-three minutes reading, tops)** and will fill you in on everything you need to know. 

  


     Profile webpage: http : // www . angelfire . com / scifi / manicpanic / Profilemanic . html 

  
     (note: don't go by the picture of Manic at the top, that's not really how he looks, that's an artist's rendering; I have a real picture of him from the show referenced below) 

  


     Picture webpage: http : // www . angelfire . com / scifi / manicpanic / ScreenShots . html 

     (Manic is the green one; Sonia is the pink one; and Sonic, of course, is blue) 

  


     !!!Don't forget to take out all the spaces when you copy and paste the web addresses above!!! 

  
     And yes: ALL of the poems in this or any other of my works are 100% original. This includes the four line "disclaimer" poem just beneath here. 

     ~ For those of you curious, the bold text is for people who are skimming ;) ~ 

  


     **NOTE OF IMPORTANCE: **In this story, Knuckles is seen by the people of Mobius as the one and only god. For this reason, the word "Guardian" can be compared to "god." Therefore, when one says "Oh Guardian," it is an expression similar to the widely popular "Oh god!" that people use today. I would also like to apologize in advance on Manic's behalf. He's got a dirty mouth . . . the little bastard. 

  


     As always: don't forget to have fun. 

  


     Sonic the Hedgehog is not my creation, 

     His story belongs to the Sega Corporation. 

     This fanfic is made with humble intention, 

     To honor their art and brilliant invention. 

     ~ Lael Adair 

  


* * *

  


     ~~~~~~~~~~~~ Eternity ~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

     Written By: Lael Adair 

  
  


     I : Lost and Found 

     "Anything that can go wrong, will go wrong." 

     ~ Murphy's First Law 

  
     You know, I don't even know why I take vacations. Seriously, the one weekend I take off to visit my only sister, Sonia, those stupid rookies back at my mechanics shop call and tell me there's been an accident; something involving a practical joke, a tub of gasoline, and a match that was lit "by itself." Just great. I'm not even gone for a day and _Manic's Mechanics_ is already in mortal peril. 

     I roll my eyes and continue down the shadowed path through the woods. It's almost midnight, and thanks to the thick, black clouds blocking the sky, I can barely see three inches in front of my nose. It's not really anything out of the ordinary, though. The sky's been this dark since before I was born . . . since before anyone was born for that matter. Ever since Sonic the Hedgehog defeated Robotnik over four hundred years ago, it's never really recovered. 

  


     Everyone knows the story. We're all taught it when we're little, even before we know our own names. It was 5032 and Robotnik had held Mobius under the terrible shadow of the roboticizor for nearly twenty-eight years. King Acorn was lost forever in the Void, the Acorn Kingdom was in ruins, and the only people with free will left on the entire planet were the Freedom Fighters, led by Princess Sally Acorn. For years, the Freedom Fighters and Robotnik had been caught in a deadlock; each winning a few and each losing some, but in 5032, it all came to a head. 

     In that year, Robotnik decided he was through playing games. With the help of some spy in the Freedom Fighter network, he figured out the location of Knothole and drew all his forces together for one huge, all-or-nothing attack. Sally and her army fought pretty well, but one after another they failed, until only the Princess and a few fighters were left. Realizing they were almost sunk, Sally came up with one last desperate plan: They would destroy Robotropolis, Robotnik's empire, with one massive explosion; killing the enemy, but also sacrificing the lives of all the roboticized Sally and the others had fought so long to save. With heavy hearts, the Princess gave the green light and they set the plan into motion. 

     The bombs were made from old parts and chemicals stolen from Robotnik's factories. Several more fighters lost their lives setting them up, but eventually --- mostly thanks to Tails --- the charges got set. The Freedom Fighters evacuated as many people as they could and, with tears in their eyes, pressed the button. Unfortunately, nothing happened. They guessed there was some problem with the wiring, so they got ready to sneak back into the city and recheck the circuit job, but before they could do it, Robotnik got wind of their plans and attacked. 

     It was then that Knuckles, the Almighty Lord, descended from Heaven and shone his grace on Mobius by basically coming in and kicking holy ass. With a single sweep of his hand, the Almighty was said to have melted Robotnik's army dead in their tracks. While he kept the robots busy; Sonic, Sally, Tails, and the other Freedom Fighters made their way into the city where they were confronted by Julian Robotnik himself --- and a mob of his robots, of course. I'm sure I don't have to explain that a fight broke out, but just to be thorough, a fight broke out. In the middle of the struggle, Robotnik saw an opportunity to kill the Princess and, being the resident 'evil bastard,' he took it. As Robotnik lunged at Sally with his blaster drawn, Sonic --- in an act of sheer valor --- unsheathed the Sword of Acorn from its hilt around Sally's waist and impaled Robotnik on its tip, sacrificing his life to her with a gunshot wound to the heart. Tails died a little later when he traveled alone into Robotropolis and set off the bombs by hand. 

     The explosion sent tons of black, chemical smoke into the air that was so thick, it blocked out the sun's light from the surface of Mobius. The battle won, Lord Knuckles the Almighty gave his blessing to the dead and then returned to his palace in the sky where he reigns over Heaven. Sonic was given a knight's ceremony for his sacrifice and was buried in a secret location so his memory could live on forever. To this day, lovers all over the planet build dreams upon this tale of sacrifice, and all wedding vows are made under the wishes that they'll be as strong and true as that of the great Hero and the Princess of Acorn. 

  


     I always loved that story as a kid. Well, me and everyone else on the entire planet. I still get a chill of awe at the thought of Sonic. People say I'm related to him, his great-great-something-or-other-grandchild, but people say a lot of things. I don't look anything like him if you ask me. Sonic was said to be tall, muscular, thin, smart, bold, blue . . . I'm short with spiky green quills that look like they're styled with an electrical socket every morning. My ears are pierced more times than I can count, I can't run for crap, and I'm far from an angel. My name isn't even cool enough to be up to standards. People hear the name Sonic and they're like 'Sonic, wow. I bet he's fast.' People hear my name and they think, 'Manic, huh. I bet he's crazy.' Granted, though, hedgehogs are pretty rare to see around anymore, and sometimes it gets me wondering if there was anything deeper to that story about Sonic and Sally. . . . 

  


     The woods are bone-chillingly cold tonight. Mobius pretty much stays in cold temperatures all year round since the dark clouds block out the sun, but for some reason tonight seems downright freezing . . . probably because I didn't take an extra jacket like Sonia begged me to. Murphy's law strikes again. Against my better judgment, I left her house alone in the dead of night to make the journey through the woods back to my shop. Sonia nags that I do a lot of things against my better judgment, but I love her anyway. She's the only sister I've got. 

     I give a shiver and hunch my shoulders a bit more into the folds of my leather jacket. I'm so busy with trying to keep warm that I don't notice the large rock sticking up on the path in front of me. With a gasp, my foot catches and I fall flat on my face into the dirt. 

     "Aw dammit!" I curse out loud. A few birds give startled squawks and take off from the trees above me. I get up and brush the dirt off my clothes and then start to work on getting the crap out that's found its way into my hair. The gel I use to spike my quills is like super glue, meaning it cements anything that touches it and holds it there until I shampoo with paint thinner. As I'm struggling with the pine cone from hell, a strange noise catches my attention. At first, I think it's another pissed bird, but then I realize the sound's coming from a person. It's a strange gasping sort of noise, almost like someone panting who's out of breath. My ears prick up. I don't know why, but my instincts are telling me something's not right. After a few seconds of strained listening, I realize why. The sound is of a child crying. 

  


     Now, I'm a pretty nice guy. Granted I did do some stealing back in the day, but I only stole to fulfill my need for adventure, my hunger for excitement, my. . . . 

     All right fine, so I was a klepto, so sue me. 

     Anyway, I'd hate to think of some kid lost in the woods with one of his arms hanging off of him or something. I know if I was lost in the woods with one of my arms hanging off of me, I'd want someone to have enough balls to check it out, even if that someone was an ex-klepto. 

     So with that happy thought dancing around in my mind, I step off the path into the forest. The cries get louder and louder the deeper I go, turning more and more frantic with each passing second. By the time I stumble into a tiny clearing, I'm freaked out of my mind with fear for this kid's safety. 

     I make one quick pass with my eyes around the area looking for anything dangerous --- it's a thieving habit, I guess. The space is small, barely ten feet across, but fortunately it's lit with a silvery glow. If I knew for sure what moonlight looked like, I'd swear that was it, but most likely the glow is coming from some Illumibells growing in the area. Those flowers are pretty much the only source of natural light you can find at night since the moon hasn't been seen in, oh, four hundred years. Thankfully, there's nothing threatening around that I can see. With that done, I turn my attention to where the cries are coming from. 

     Just on the edge of the other side of the clearing is a fox kneeling on the ground with his back to me. The kid's young, barely 15 is my guess from his size, and he's really upset. His bony shoulders are heaving up and down as he cries, and he's rocking back and forth hypnotically with his arms hugging his front. The kid's orange-ish I think, it's kind of hard to tell with all the light on him, but at the moment I could care less about his color. I'm too busy staring at the kid's tails. He's got two! It's the freakiest thing I've ever seen in my life! Even though the kid looks like something that belongs in the circus, I decide to try and pretend like I don't see his mutated tails. I'm sure the little guy gets teased a lot about it, the freaky little thing. 

     "Hey kid" I call out, trying hard to keep the word "freak" out of my vocabulary. "You lost?" 

     The kit gives a particularly forceful sob but doesn't answer. I start to inch my way towards him. 

     "Hey. Hey there." 

     I reach out a hand to calmly touch his shoulder and then my blood turns to ice. . . . My hand passes right through him. 

  


     Fear smothers me like a blanket, choking off my air. Now that I'm this close, I can see that the light bathing the clearing isn't coming from Illumibells . . . the kid's glowing. A snaking cold starts to work its way up my hand, making me gasp out in pain and draw back. 

     As if the noise awoke him from a trance, the fox slowly looks over his shoulder and I get a close-up look into two large eyes bleached completely white. My breath stops like a weight in my chest. I realize I can see the tree behind him right through his head. 

     The kid blinks slowly and, with eyes wide, turns his shoulders towards me. His hands weren't hugging himself like I thought. They were cradling something in his lap. 

     My mouth dries up when the 'something' comes into view. 

     It's a head. 

     There . . . is a fucking . . . head in this kid's lap. 

     Even though the fox is a pale-white, I can tell by the dark tint on his legs and chest that he's covered with something. His hands, his arms, his face, his legs; everything drenched in a sickening syrupy liquid. A coppery smell reaches my nose . . . blood . . . and the kid's soaked in it. 

     The head tilts a little on his lap, disturbed by the kid's movements, and my horror-widened eyes slowly shift to it. 

     It's a hedgehog head, a blue one . . . a head that, from the looks of its bloodied, mutilated neck, was forcefully severed from its body. 

     "He killed him" the fox whispers. The words literally seem to float through the air and prick my skin. He hugs the head like a brother lost and then holds it up. The glassy green eyes stare at me like a fish. I take a timid step back but that's as much as my fear will let me move. 

     "He lied" the child moans painfully. "He killed him! He lied! HE KILLED HIM! HE LIED!" 

     The sobs become cries, the cries become wails, the wails become screams; and before I know it, the sadistic little shit is lunging at me with his fangs opened in a terrible howl like death itself. The head goes tumbling off his lap in another direction, completely forgotten now that the fox has something else to torment. I shriek and backpedal into a tree, adding my own screams to the chorus of banshee wails coming from the fox. The kit's claws flash in the light and I feel them scratch my right shoulder. Claws?! What the hell?! He was wearing gloves a second ago! 

     In a clatter of earrings and quills, I dive for the ground. An unholy scream tears through the darkness, and I see huge chunks of bark spiral off like rockets while I pick myself up and run. A glance over my shoulder reveals that the bottom half of the tree I had been up against is completely destroyed. Oh yeah . . . and the little shit's giving chase. 

     "Shit shit shit!" My feet pound against the forest floor like thunder. Claws bathed with a ghostly glow flash off to the side. Fuck! That little shit is fast! 

     "HE LIED!" The scream comes again, accompanied by another silvery swipe of claws. Without even thinking about it, I see them and dodge. Thank Guardian I was once a thief! It looks like I didlearn something from outrunning all those cops. I break through the trees lining the path and start to sprint now that I've got clear space, but it's not long before I somehow manage to trip on that exact same rock that made me fall the first time. Damn you Murphy! 

     Sweaty and panicked, I try to catch myself and stumble to the ground on my back. Before I can even start shouting out the Guardian's prayer or something, the little psycho is on me. 

     "He promised!" the fox screams, "HE PROMISED!" There's a flash of silver and then there's pain near my ear. I cry out and reach a hand up to fend the little shit off. Of course, my arm goes right through him. 

     It doesn't take me long to abandon fighting back. Blindly, frantically, I somehow turn over on my stomach and scramble to my feet. 

     Damn it, Sonic! If you really are my great-great-whatever, you better as hell lend me some speed right now! 

     I run and run for what seems like an eternity, the sound of slashing claws and undead screams driving me far beyond my endurance point. And then, just as I'm about to drop from exhaustion, I break through the forest at the end of the path and there, in the distance, is Sonia's house! 

     The fox/psycho thing screams and makes one last attempt at me before I reach the door. He gets me, but I don't care anymore. All I want is to get inside. The second my fingers touch the cold doorknob, the ghostly shrieks stop as if shut off by a switch. I manage to get one last good look at the psycho fox before I slam the cabin door. He's on his knees again in Sonia's lawn, rocking hypnotically, sobbing. "He killed him . . . he lied. . . ." 


	2. Shadows of Shadows

      Here you go, Chapter 2!  And I have also decided that I am never going to grow up.  Thank you for your time.

      As always: Don't forget to have fun…and…uh…eat your vegetables.

                                                                Sonic the Hedgehog is not my creation,

                                                             His story belongs to the Sega Corporation.

                                                               This fanfic is made with humble intention,

                                                                To honor their art and brilliant invention.

                                                                                             ~ Lael Adair

                                                                              II : Shadows of Shadows

                                                "There is plenty of peace in any home where the family doesn't

                                                              make the mistake of trying to get together."

                                                                                            ~ Kin [F. McKinney] Hubbard

      "Manic?" someone asks from the entryway.

      I'm shaking all over, my mouth is dry, and I look like shit.  There's mud all over my front, claw marks all over my back, leaves impaled in my quills, my ear's throbbing like hell, and I'm about to piss myself.

      Sonia emerges from the side bedroom in one of those pink, disgustingly girly nightgowns.  She must have just put her brats to sleep.  She takes one look at me and rushes over like I was one of her kids.

       "Manic?!  My Guardian!  What happened?!"

      All I can do is point and stutter at the door while the mud drips off me onto her fine, white carpet.  I immediately see the mother instincts set in on Sonia's face.  She grabs a heavy bat from the nearby sports closet and looks at me.

       "Outside?" she asks quietly.  She crosses to one of the long windows lining either side of her expensive front door and cautiously lifts back the lacy curtain.  A frustrated sigh later, she looks at me like I'm nuts.  "Manic, there's no one there."

       "What?!"  I fly to the other window and practically rip off the curtain.  The front yard is completely empty.  "No, no! No way!"

      "Manic!  Shh!  You'll wake up the children."

      "No!  There's no way!  There is no WAY!  Sonia!  I swear on the Guardian's _soul _that . . ."

      "Manic!  I will not have you abusing the Almighty's name in my house!"

      I grab her shoulders and give her a shake.  "Sonia!  Listen to me!  I swear!  There was someone . . . er . . . thing there!  The fucking thing chased me all the way through the forest!  Look!"  I show her the marks on my ear and shoulder.

      She inspects the wounds but does not look convinced.  "These look like they were made by tree branches.  Were you running through the woods?"

      My jaw drops.  I can't believe this!

      She stares at me for a moment and then I see the shadow of suspicion pass over her eyes.  "Manic?" she asks, cocking her head accusingly.  "Are you high?"

      Did I forget to mention that stealing wasn't my only ex-bad habit?

      I push Sonia away, hurt.  "I told you I don't do that anymore."

      She sighs.  "I'm sorry, Manic.  I didn't mean it.  I just . . . I worry about you.  I don't want you going down that path again."

       "So I made some bad choices!  That doesn't mean that every time I leave here I'm dealing again!  And how did we get on this topic anyway?!"

       "Ok, ok.  Calm down.  I believe you --- and don't think for a second that I'm not proud of you for doing what you did.  It takes a lot of courage to fix a problem like that. . . . Look, I'll bet you were attacked by a mugger or something looking to make a quick buck --- "

       "No! It wasn't --- "

       "Why don't you stay here for tonight and get some sleep.  Your shop will be fine in the morning.  Besides it's freezing out anyway."

      Before I can do anything, she takes my hand and starts pulling me towards the guest bedroom.  "Now come on and let's get you out of those cold clothes" Sonia insists.  "You're shivering like mad."

      I'm too drained to argue with her.  Without a word, I let Sonia lead me through the house.  I don't tell her that I'm not shaking because it's cold.

                                                                                ~~~~~~~~~~~~

      I don't sleep well at all that night.  I keep jerking awake from nightmares filled with silvery two-tailed foxes and haunting wails of suffering.

      Poetic, huh?

      When I'm not sleeping, the shadows dancing around Sonia's guest room made sure to give me plenty to worry about.  I swear they're doing it on purpose.  They keep taking shapes like long claws and sharp fangs.  By morning, I look even worse than I had when I ran in the night before.

       "I'm gonna take a shower" I groan to Sonia as I pass the kitchen on my way to the bathroom.  If the clanging sound of dishes and plates is any indication of when she got up, she's been awake since 6 am.  I don't know how she does it.  I am so not a morning person.  Of course, the night-owl habits may have come with being a thief, I don't know.

      Once the door to the bathroom is closed, I rub some sleep out of my eye and scratch myself in a few places.  Guardian do I love being a guy.  I inspect my leather jacket, a trinket stolen from a very fancy suit store.  It's not hurt too bad, just a few scratches here and there.  This jacket's always been pretty important to me.  I used to wear it as a badge of pride since it was the first thing I ever stole, but now I wear it more to remind myself of what I'm fighting against.  Believe me, the road from kleptomaniac to normal citizen is a long and hard one, and having a few reminders along the way helps a lot.

      I turn and check out my shoulder in the mirror where I was scratched last night.  I don't really want to admit it, but it does look like it was made by a tree branch.  There are three marks running from my shoulder to my lower back, but they're jagged and not very deep.  Even the slice on my ear, which I was so sure nearly cut it clean off, turns out to only be a minor nick.  I shake my head a few times and run a hand through my hair.  After a good flex in the mirror --- yeah, it's a guy thing --- I finally get in the shower.

      The water's freaking hot, but it feels good on my poor leg muscles.  It's not everyday that you're forced to run the 100 meter dash in less than ten seconds.  Pieces of that damn pinecone are still stuck in my quills, but some shampoo and a dash of paint thinner takes care of the little prick.  I give out a sigh.  There's nothing like a hot shower in the morning after a grueling battle with death the night before.  I'm working on washing the caked mud out of my tail, when the water suddenly starts to get cold.  I reach my hand towards the knob and turn it a little to compensate, but the temperature drops even faster.

       "Sonia!" I yell, frustrated.  "Are you running the dishwasher?!"

      She doesn't answer.  She must not be able to hear me.  I give out a gasp as the water plunges another thirty degrees.

       "Dammit!  You'd think in a rich house like this the faucets would work!"  I step to the side of the shower stream and start to inspect the head.  I'm not a plumber, my forte's in mechanics, but I do know a little about piping.  I'm too busy fiddling with the shower head to notice the soft _plink plink _echoing around the bathroom.  It's not until I feel the pricks on my skin that I even look up from what I'm doing.

       "What the. . . ."  I step back to get a better view.

      My eyes widen when I realize there's ice falling from the shower head.  I'm talkin' real, honest to Guardian ice!  Now I already said I'm not much of a plumber, but even I know pipes aren't supposed to do that.  Out of anger, or maybe fear, I throw my hand to the water nozzle and pitch it all the way to the hot side.  Stupid move.  The temperature instantly responds and sends scalding hot water cascading all over me.

      Yeah, go ahead and laugh.  You know you've done it too.

      I spit out a few more curses and then shut the water off.  For a few minutes, all I can do is just stand there and stare at the tub, like some retard pondering the meaning of porcelain.  I search every inch of it with my eyes, looking for . . . I don't know.  A sign?  An explanation?  The events from last night replay in my mind for the thousandth time.  Does this have anything to do with it?  No, it can't be.  Sonia's out in the kitchen . . . she must be running the water to boil eggs or something.  I must have been imagining things . . . I seem to be doing a lot of that lately.  There's nothing to worry about.

      Feeling slightly better, I give myself a quick once-over with a towel and throw on my tattered jacket to get some food.

      I stop before emerging out of the hallway, just watching my sister bustle about the kitchen making breakfast.  She always makes good stuff when I come over, like pancakes or waffles or eggs or something.

      A smile touches my face . . . I don't deserve her.  My bad habits hurt more than just myself, they hurt Sonia too.  She never said anything about it, but she knew I stole from her a couple times, I can tell.  As a thief, you get pretty good at recognizing in people's eyes when they figure you out.  That's usually your cue to move on and find another sucker, but Sonia never kicked me out.  She never yelled at me or spit in my face or called me any names like those people who think they have no problems did.  The only thing she ever did wrong was trust me.

       "Manic" Sonia smiles, snapping me out of my thoughts.  "You're awake."

      I grin, "Yeah."  I glance at the plates she's using to set the table and Sonia rolls her eyes.  She knows what's coming.

      If I haven't made it clear already, Sonia's really girly.  She obsesses over the latest fashions and makeup and hair and all that annoying stuff that girls seem to be so fascinated with, and one of her most obsessive habits has to do with her dishes.  Sonia _insists _on having a different set of dishes for different types of foods, meaning I can always tell what we're having based on the plates she uses.  "Hmm" I moan thoughtfully, "The china.  The china means . . . oh what was it what was it?  The china means we're having . . . waffles!"

       "Ha ha" she says, "very funny.  Now sit down and eat before the kids and Jack get up, or else there won't be anything left."

       "You don't have to tell me twice!"  I grab a nearby, silk covered seat.  "Your family eats like a hoard of dragons."

       "Funny. I remember the kids saying the same thing about my brother."

      I give a sneer.  "Aren't you confusing your kids with Jack?"

      A deep voice suddenly interrupts from the other side of the room.  "Did I hear my name?"

      A burly hedgehog emerges from the master bedroom.  He's a big guy with arms too long for his body and a neck half as short as it ought to be, in my opinion anyway.  Jack's kind of a pretty boy, with blonde quills and light blue eyes.  Seriously, if he wasn't married to Sonia, I'd swear the guy was gay.

       "Ahh, Manic" Jack says with a suspicious glance at the good silverware sitting right next to my left hand.  "So nice to see you."

      If you can't tell, Jack and I don't exactly get along.

      I nod, "Jack."

      Pretty boy eyes the silverware for another second and then takes a seat at the table, opposite me of course, so he can keep an eye on my hands.  I make sure to keep them in sight.  I've found out from experience that it's not a good idea to put your hands under the table if you're an ex-klepto.  It tends to make people nervous, especially brother-in-laws that are rich and twice your size.

       "So" Jack says, helping himself to a couple of waffles, "I heard you had a run in with some muggers last night."  The 'serves you right' tone in his voice is hard to miss.  His pretty boy eyes meet mine.  "They steal anything?"

       "They weren't muggers" I answer.  I try to keep my cool, but that's something I've never been very good at.  Jack looks at me expectantly, waiting for my answer.  "It was a . . . a . . . shit, just forget it."

      Jack frowns.  "Watch your mouth, Manic.  They may speak that way on the street, but not in my house."

      I sigh and stand up.  I am so not in the mood for this today.  "Hey Sonia, I think I'm gonna head out."

      My sister shoots a glare at Jack but walks me to the door without protesting.  "Ok, Manic, but be careful.  I don't want you getting hurt or anything.  When will you be coming back?"

       "I don't know."  I look directly at pretty boy, "When did you say you were leaving next, Jack?"  Feeling rather proud of myself for that quip, I step out onto the porch.

      The second the door shuts behind me, though, my courage melts off me like the butter on those waffles inside.  The events in the shower come back to me, and for the second time that day an edgy feeling creeps back into my stomach.

      It's midmorning, so the sky's resumed its normal, sickly charcoal color it keeps during the day.  I take a deep breath and set foot off the porch.  I don't know what I expect to happen.  A rotting hand to pop up from the ground?  A pasty face to materialize before me?

      I stand still for a second with all my muscles tense, waiting for that terrible ghostly wail to float on the wind.

      Nothing.

      I take another step and another and another, and pretty soon I'm back on the path and well on my way towards home, all without incident.  The forest seems quieter than usual.  None of the birds are singing, no animals are moving through the leaves, even the wind is still and silent.

      I swear the Guardian is doing this to me because he thinks it's funny.

      Up ahead, I can see the place where I wandered off the path last night.  It's a lot harder walking past it now that I know just a few feet into the woods lies the clearing from hell.  With shaky steps, I approach the spot looking for signs of last night's struggle.  There's nothing there.  No blood on the ground, no claw marks in the dirt, not even a single disturbance in the leaves.

       "Maybe I was seeing things" I mutter.

      The longer I stand there, the less afraid I become, and soon I'm scouting around the area for any sign to defend my sanity.  I even go so far as to take a few steps into the forest, but there's nothing there.  There aren't even any broken branches or footprints to mark my frenzied dash through the foliage.  I shake my head a few times in disbelief.  To be honest, I'm a little disappointed.  I have enough problems as it is without having to defend my sanity too.  But at the same time, it feels like a heavy weight has been lifted from my shoulders.

      My confidence comes back in full force as I travel back to my house.  Well, actually it's more of a shack if you compare it to where Sonia lives.  She's the prize of the family; little miss college graduate, married, perfect Sonia with all the brains and all the money.  Mom and dad would be proud of her if they were alive.  It may be really awful of me, but I'm kind of glad they're not.  At least they can't see where I ended up: Holed out in the middle of the woods with nothing to live off of except a struggling mechanics shop built up from mostly stolen money.  I'm working on it, though.

      I give out a happy sigh when my raggedy-ass house comes into view.  It may look crappy but at least it's mine, purchased entirely with legit money, and I can't think of anything to be more proud of than that.

      By the time I take my first step towards the front door, I've completely forgotten about the events last night . . . that is, until I see a silvery two-tailed fox tearing after me out of the corner of my eye. . . .

      Sonia's husband's name (Jack) is my silent tribute to Jack Skellington.  And, although I didn't know it at the time since this chapter was written a few months ago, it can also serve as my tribute to Jack Sparrow.  Savvy?

      The next chapter is going to be delayed by a few days.  I'm going on vacation, so the spacing's going to get a little messed up.  This one, Chapter 2, is getting put up early and the next one will have to be put up late, I'd say around August 8th or so.  Sorry about that.  Uh . . . my bad?


	3. Instant Replay

       Hope you guys are still with me!  Any thoughts yet on where this is going?  ~beams~  Okay, I'll stop talking.  Here's Chapter 3!  Don't spend it all in one place.

As always: enjoy.

                                                                Sonic the Hedgehog is not my creation,

                                                             His story belongs to the Sega Corporation.

                                                               This fanfic is made with humble intention,

                                                                To honor their art and brilliant invention.

                                                                                             ~ Lael Adair

                                                                              III : Instant Replay

                                                                   "By heaven I charge thee! Speak!"

                                                                                            ~ Horatio

       "Oh SHIT!" I turn and run like mad, fear once again fueling my feet. The door! If I can just make it to the door!

      I feel a surge of freezing cold air right on my neck as I tearass through my lawn. Just because I'm stupid, I risk a glance over my shoulder. Now that it's light out, sort of, I can clearly see the thing. It seems to be having a hard time keeping up with me. It's using its twin tails to propel itself over the ground, kind of like a hovercraft, but it keeps stumbling and reaching a hand out towards me, like it's too frantic to run straight. I may be crazy, but it doesn't seem to be in the same mood as it was when I met it last night. It seems almost . . . scared.

      Well, whatever's bothering it, it's enough to let me reach the door first. I give a nasty laugh and leap into the doorway with plenty of time to spare. I'm home free, baby!

       "See ya, you freaky little shit!" I laugh in triumph, and then I slam the door just as the thing's coming up the porch.

      You know those stupid dances you do when you've done something so totally cool words escape you?

      Yeah.

      So anyway, I'm laughin' and dancin' and generally feeling pretty good about myself and what I've just done . . . and then a transparent fox head pops right through my door. Its bleached eyes widen to the size of saucers, and that voice that seems to rip the quills right off my neck rasps on the air. "Please! Don't hurt him!"

      I scream and jump back, my arms flailing out to catch something, but there's nothing there to break my fall. I land with a _thud _smack on my tail. As I sit and tremble, watching this thing pull itself the rest of the way through my door, I'm convinced of two things: one, doors don't do shit; and two, this thing is definitely a ghost.

      The fox advances, his arm held out pleadingly. "Don't hurt him!" he begs, and that's when I realize he's not talking to me; he's looking past me, through me. Still on my ass, I scoot off to the side and hold my breath hoping that he'll forget about me if I'm quiet. The kid doesn't seem to notice. He just keeps on inching forewords in a trance like I was never there.

      I'm shivering all over, partly from the searing cold that's suddenly blanketing the room, and partly from fear. My teeth chatter violently while this undead thing from another plane moves right past me. Now that I'm this close, I can see that the ghost is shaking too. His eyes are focused in horror at a point beyond my small shack's back wall.  Underneath them, I can see large silver tears just waiting to be shed. Again, I get the impression that he's afraid, but I have no clue what it is he's looking at. I can't see a damn thing.

      The kit stops suddenly and his eyes get even bigger, like someone watching the woman in a horror movie about to be murdered. He puts up his ghostly hands in a form of surrender. "Please!" he sobs, "Don't hurt him!" His ears prick up, listening to some silent conversation that's long dead to anyone but his tortured soul. "All right" he nods. "I'll give you the Chaos Emerald, but you have to promise to let Sonic go."

      Forgetting myself, I gasp out loud and then clap a hand over my mouth. Thankfully, the ghost doesn't notice my mistake.

      Did he just say Sonic?! Then that means . . . that means I must be looking at the ghost of Tails. I am actually sitting inches away from _the _Tails!

      The fear in my stomach turns to butterflies. To think! Miles Prower! Tails himself!!! I have one of the greatest heroes on all of Mobius walking around in _my _house! But, wait . . . something doesn't fit. If he's real, then that means he really did attack me last night. And the kid I found in the woods certainly didn't act like the Tails I've heard of. . . .

      A glowing silver light distracts me from my thoughts, and I look over just in time to see ghost Tails pull out a shining gem from behind his back. My eyes grow wide in their sockets. I'd stake my life that the gem in his hand is one of the Chaos Emeralds.

      The Chaos Emeralds and the legendary Master Emerald were told as nothing more than fairy tales when I grew up --- still are, as far as I know. They've never been found. No one's even been able to prove their existence, but now that I can see one for myself --- or a shadow of one anyway --- I'm pretty much convinced they were real.

      Tails glances guiltily downwards and then holds out the gem. One second the crystal is in his hands, and the next it's gone; snatched by some invisible hand that Tails can probably see, but I sure as hell can't.

      Tails grits his glowing white teeth. "There. Now let Sonic go!" The fox's ears prick up again as he listens to the silence, and then with a scream more terrible than even the ones I heard last night, his face contorts into a twisted mass of anger and sorrow and he leaps forward. "SONIC! NO!!!" The bloodcurdling scream shakes my entire cabin as I watch him dive desperately towards the ground, reaching out his young arms to catch something before it falls.

      The head from last night --- with its glassy, green, fish-like eyes --- comes into view and lands square in Tails' lap. And then, Tails starts to rock hypnotically, all the while talking softly to the dismembered head. "Sonic no! He lied to me . . . he tricked me. . . ."

      Seconds later, a chorus of maniacal laughter echoes through my tiny house and a terrible BANG shatters through the air. In a whiz of bright red light, I see a laser blast spiral towards Tails.

       "Hey kid!  LOOKOUT!"  My warning comes out on its own, totally involuntary, but it doesn't matter anyway.  Tails doesn't hear me.  His eyes fling open wide in horror as the blast strikes him directly in the heart. I have just enough time to see the kid's blood and bone splatter all over my walls before I pass out on the floor.

                                                                                ~~~~~~~~~~~~

       It takes a few seconds for everything to come back to me. I groan and bring a hand to my temple. It must have hit the floor when I fell. I can tell from the chirp of the crickets outside that it's night. That means I've been out for a few hours. The house is silent --- and dark, of course. Can't have a frightening experience with ghosts from the underworld without a nice quiet, dark house. I look over at the place where Tails was right before his rib cage plastered itself to my wall and I almost feint again.

       The little shit's still there!

       He's laying on his side, his eyes open and hazed in the grip of death. His mouth is frozen in a little 'o' of surprise and a gaping hole is blown through his chest right where I saw the blast hit him. Again, even though the kid's a ghost, I can tell by the dark color on his fur and hands that he's drenched in blood. There's even a puddle of 'ghost blood' on the floor underneath him. From the looks of it, his body's stiff as a board.

       Guardian.  If ever I needed a joint, I need one now.

       I look around in a daze, hardly believing this is even happening. Sonic's head is resting on the other side of the room, propped up against a table leg. It must have flown out of Tails' arms when he 'died.' The green fish eyes stare at me accusingly. For a dead head, it looks royally pissed. The severed pieces of flesh on its neck sway gently in a breeze that isn't there. I swear I can smell blood.

       I don't know why, but suddenly a wash of anger floods over me. I'm not scared or shocked or quaking, I'm just pissed as hell.

        "You little fucker!" I scream at Tails like he's going to answer me. "What the hell do you want!"

       Not surprisingly, the only reply I get is the sound of crickets chirping outside.

        "I know you can hear me, you freaky little shit! You're a fucking ghost! YOU CAN'T DIE! Now stand up and answer me! What in the name of the Guardian's balls are you following me around for?!"

       The responding silence doesn't help to soothe my temper. I pick up a nearby vase, stolen of course, and hurl it directly at Tails' head. The ceramic pottery passes right through him and shatters on the floor . . . and Tails just stares. Without thinking, I cross the room and reach a hand towards the fox's throat. My fingers pass right through him --- obviously, I don't know why I was expecting anything else --- but as I stand there, I feel the most bone-chilling cold ever imaginable pass through me. It feels like sticking my hand inside a cooler of ice and then peeling back the flesh until nothing but bone is exposed. Within seconds, the otherworldly cold travels up my arm and into my chest, seizing my heart in its grip. I can hear my pulse start to slow in my ears. With difficulty, I yank my hand out of the kid and stumble back into a wall.

        "Oh Guardian" I moan. Shaking like a crack addict on withdraw, I somehow make my way to the bathroom and hurl up my guts in the john. I'm only in there for a few minutes, but when I stumble back out, there's no sign of Tails or Sonic.  They're gone.

       I'm too sick to do a victory dance this time. Not like it matters anyway . . . this wasn't a victory. I have no clue why, but somehow I know I haven't seen the last of Tails.

       This is far, far from over. . . .

       Ahh.  The plot thickens.  Hopefully by now you have tons of questions, more so than you have answers.  Any thoughts on anything?  Drop me an email or stick it in a review.  I'll be happy to discuss stuff with you, and I promise I won't give away the plot.  Consider it an "open discussion" session.

       Hope you liked it.  This chapter has more action in it than the last one, I know, but I promise I won't steer you wrong.  Each chapter has its place, trust me.  The next post should be around August 15th, I think.


	4. Improv

      You're pretty much halfway through at this point.  I say pretty much because the last chapter is going to be about double the length of the others.  So, going by the numbers you're halfway, but judging on content you're probably not.  I say probably because I'm too lazy to do the math.  Math sucks.

      Hope those of you that have already started class had a great first day…unless you're a bully.  If you're a bully, I hope you got your ass kicked by some short, skinny kid that secretly knew karate while all of your friends pointed and laughed at you in a horrible cacophony of mockery and shame.  On top of that, I hope your second day was even worse.

      Remember: Confucius say: Man who run in front of car get tired.  Confucius also say: Man who run behind car get exhausted.

                                                                Sonic the Hedgehog is not my creation,

                                                             His story belongs to the Sega Corporation.

                                                               This fanfic is made with humble intention,

                                                                To honor their art and brilliant invention.

                                                                                             ~ Lael Adair

                                                                                  IV : Improv

                                                        "We're actors --- we're the opposite of people."

                                                                                             ~ Tom Stoppard

      "SONIC! NO!!!"

      I rest my chin on my hand and idly watch Sonic's head roll across the floor.

      "Manic?" Sonia asks. "Are you listening to me?"

      I watch Tails dive across the living room. He's nice enough to catch the head right in the doorway so I can see him . . . lucky me. Aaaand cue the death scene:

      "Sonic no! He lied to me . . . he tricked me. . . ."

      BANG!

      Tails falls to his death, right on cue.

      "Manic!"

      I stare into Sonia's big brown eyes. She can't see Tails, the lucky little bitch. She can't see him, Jack can't see him, the kids can't see him, the guys at work can't see him . . . no one can see the freaky little shit but me.

      I glance over at the teenage fox that's making my life a living hell. "He'll stay like that for hours."

      Sonia tilts an eyebrow at me. "What?"

      I suddenly realize I said that last part out loud. "Huh? Oh . . . uh, nothing. What were we talking about?" With an unsteady glance at me, Sonia starts talking again. I try to pay attention to her, but my eyes keep drifting to Tails lying 'dead' on the floor. It used to creep me out, but now after three weeks of watching it day after day after day after day, it's just getting annoying. I swear. If that little fucker wasn't a ghost, I'd walk over there and kick him in the nuts.

      I've tried everything to get rid of him; garlic, rings of salt, little pendants on chains . . . fuck, I even tried roach spray. Nothing works. Every day, without fail, that little shit is there; in the shower, on the john, eating, sleeping, working . . . it's driving me crazy. He ignores me too --- reliving the last few minutes of his life without ever acknowledging I'm there. Shit, he'll even walk through me if I get in the way. Doesn't that just fuck all? I can't even get a _ghost _to pay me any respect.

      But what worries me the most is that I've kind of gotten used to it, almost like you get used to the news playing in your house even though no one's watching it.  I guess in my head I think of him more as a thing, kind of like a television.  A one-way image that follows me around but isn't really alive, isn't really real.  I'm glad, too.  I don't want to think about him watching some of the stuff I do when I'm alone.  The thought of being constantly watched gives me the creeps.  I can see now why chicks make such a big deal out of being stalked.  But they have it easier than I do.  They can move.

      I want Tails gone.  He's driving me fucking nuts.  I don't want to have to live this way for the rest of my life.

      "MANIC!"

      I jump. Ignoring a chick when she's talking is _not _the key to a long life.

      "You're NOT listening to me!"

      "No no! I am! Uh, something about your nails and your hair, right?"

      "No!"

      Damn. Wouldn't you know it? The one minute a year she doesn't obsess over her girly habits. . . .

      "Manic! I'm serious! I'm trying to have a deep, heartfelt conversation here!"

      "Well I'm sorry! But it's kind of hard to pay attention with ---" I cut off, but it's too late. Sonia knows exactly what I was going to say.

      Her big cow-eyes get even bigger. "Oh Manic, more ghosts?!" she sighs. "Are you ---"

      "NO! I'M NOT DEALING AGAIN!"

      Sonia's spikes flare out huffily. She crosses her arms, "I was _going _to ask if you were ok!"

      I sink my head into my hands, trying for the moment to ignore the fact that there's a kid's bloody body only two feet away from me. I can see my reflection in Sonia's glass breakfast table. I look like shit. My ears are drooping, my quills are strewn about every which way, and I have huge circles under my eyes. I haven't had a full night's sleep ever since I first saw Tails' 'one man play.' I call it that only because that's what it is, a play. The little fucker comes to me at all hours of the day and night, and performs the same ass routine over and over and fucking over again. And every time, I'm forced to watch it all the way through, all the way to its bitter end, each time more vibrant and horrible than the last. I can't even shut my eyes to block it out. When I do, the scene just replays in my mind, like a broken record that I can't turn off.

      A gentle hand rests on my shoulder.

      "Manic." I can hear Sonia's voice shaking, she sounds like she's about to cry. "Please. Get some help. I've already lost you once to something I couldn't see, and you came back to me. I don't want to lose you again."

      I sigh and slump back against the kitchen chair. Tails just stares at me. He seems about as interested in this conversation as I am.

      Sonia takes my hand this time, practically forcing me to look at her. "Manic, please! Promise me. Promise me you'll get some help!"

      I pull away. "I don't need help! I need a fucking exorcist!"

      Well now I've done it, damn me and my tongue. Sonia's officially pissed. You can always tell because her little black nose turns up like some inbred poodle.

      "Listen to yourself!" she snaps, her pink quills flipping about angrily. "You need help, Manic! You should have gotten _real _help the first time, instead of going to a damn hypnotist!"

      "Oh fuck, Sonia! Not this fucking argument again!"

      "Don't you swear at me!"

      "I'll swear at you as much as I fucking want until you bury this stupid argument! Guardian, Sonia! I can't believe you're still harping on this!"

      "I told you to get help, Manic! Not some hocus pocus crap that doesn't do anything!"

      "Hey, hey! It worked, didn't it? You told me to go to rehab, you didn't say _which _rehab!"

      "Dammit Manic! Hypnotism _isn't _rehab!" She throws up her hands in exasperation. "That is so like you! You never want to earn anything for yourself! First stealing, then drugs. . . . And all that stupid 'doctor' did was snap his fingers and trick you into thinking you're better!"

      I've had enough. I leap from my chair, sending it skittering backwards through Tails' body and into the living room. "Hey!" I shout at her, jabbing a finger mere inches from her inbred-poodle nose. "For your information, no one got me through that but me! The hypnotist is only there to point you down the path. He can't help you take it! That accomplishment was mine!"

      "The accomplishment was like everything else you do, Manic! It was false! If you had gone to a _real _doctor ---"

      "I don't have to take this!" I'm so pissed I can't even see straight as I storm out the front door. I slam it so hard that the wood shatters in its frame.

      I barely enter the woods surrounding Sonia's house when a raspy voice floats from behind me. "Please! Don't hurt him!"

      I clench my fists. Is that damn ghost doing a replay already?! "Shut up!"

      "Don't hurt him!"

      "Shut the FUCK up!"

      "Please! Don't hurt him!"

      "I swear by the Guardian's dick, if you don't SHUT UP. . . ." I don't even finish the threat. It's empty anyway. What the hell am I gonna do to a ghost?

      "All right. I'll give you the Chaos Emerald, but you have to promise to let Sonic go."

      I whirl on Tails, both fists clenched and my teeth bared like all hell. "What the fuck do you want from me?! You want me to watch you die over and over again?! HUH?! All right! Fine then! Here I am! I'm watching! Die! I'll ENJOY it after all you've put me through you little piece of shit!"

      Tails doesn't even acknowledge my presence. He's turned to the side, playing the 'scene' as if it's taking place off to my right. With a rigid step forward, he speaks the line I know is coming. "There. Now let Sonic go!" The emerald disappears, the ears prick up, the mouth drops open, and then the scream that never fails to ice my spine erupts from his mouth. "SONIC! NO!!!"

      He dives for the ground, catching the grotesque head that I know so well in his skimpy arms. And then he starts to rock.

      I sigh like a parent with a frustrated child and cross my arms. "Come on!" I snap, impatiently tapping my foot. "Get it over with so I can go home!"

      Tails just rocks.

      "Come ON! It's not like I don't know what's coming next! BANG! Remember?! Now hurry up and die so I can walk the rest of the way home and seethe IN PEACE!"

      But the gunshot never comes. Tails just sits there, sobbing and crying, rocking the head. "Sonic no! He lied to me . . . he tricked me. . . ." And then --- slowly, ever so slowly --- Tails' eyes rise from Sonic and move to focus on me, piercing down to my very soul. I'm frozen on the spot, unable to move, unable to think. A new fear creeps over me, like new pain from an old wound, and the woods turn deathly cold. Slowly, Tails' mouth opens, and that same raspy voice that haunts me even when I sleep speaks: "He'll trick you too."

      BANG!

      I take a step back, shaking with renewed terror. "Shit! Holy SHIT!" I scream at the dead corpse. "What the FUCK is this?!"

      He spoke to me! The little fuck _spoke_ to me!

      "Oh shit oh shit oh shit . . ." I just stand there forever, repeating the words over and over like some kind of mindless chant. "This can't be. This isn't happening. That's not what's supposed to happen! This isn't right!  This can't be ---"

      Like walking through a dream, my feet start to move by themselves. I don't even notice where I'm going, I just go. My head is swimming like it's filled with air, and huge white patches of throbbing light keep blocking out chunks of my vision. I replay the conversation over and over in my head as I walk, analyzing every angle, dwelling on every word.

      "This can't be. That's not what's supposed to happen. That couldn't have been real. . . ."

      But I know it was real. It was as real as I am. It was as real as the large wooden door that's now in front of me. It was as real as my own reflection now staring at me from the frosted glass decorating the door's center. It was as real as the sign now swinging above my head . . . that sign that I haven't needed in almost a year.

      Still in a kind of sleepwalk, I place a hand on the door and push it open. I can't feel the wood underneath my fingers, but I know where to go. I've had to do this before. And believe me, it wasn't any easier.

      I'm going to get some help.

      Ghosts freak me out.

      Nothing really interesting to say down here, other than the fact that the Confucius line at the beginning cracks me up.  I should probably mention that I didn't make that up.  My friend told it to me.

      Next update should be around August 22 or so.  I'm moving back up to college next Sunday, so there _might _be a delay, but I'm not anticipating any problems.  I should have chapter 5 up well before I have to move.  I don't know if chapter 6 will be delayed or not since classes start September 1st.  We'll have to see.


	5. It's Just a Game

    Thanks for all the responses. I was really surprised. The reviews had been dry for, like, two chapters and then all of the sudden I get three in my mailbox! One right after another.     **In response to the person who reviewed and asked about fanart.** (Sorry to respond this way, but you gave an anonymous review so I didn't have your email. I believe you signed your name "Sarah Pixen.") I don't know how serious or not you were about what you said in the review, but I figured I may as well answer for you and anyone else who cares to listen. In all fairness, these characters really aren't mine, so I can't tell you what to do either way. It is not my place. Not to mention the fact that, as a fanfiction author, it would be shamefully hypocritical of me to tell you what you could and couldn't do with them. Personally, I am absolutely flattered. Feel free to draw anything and everything you want with my full blessing. (Especially because I can't draw for crap.)     I do request, however, that just as I am careful to put a disclaimer before each of my fanfictions that explains where the characters came from, I receive a similar courtesy for my ideas if the pictures are going up on a website or anything. I'd love to speak with you about it. Go ahead and shoot me an email, Sarah, and I'll be more than happy to talk with you. Email is LaelAdair@yahoo.com     Again, thanks for all the responses. I'm hoping that, by repetition, I'm making it really clear that all types of responses are accepted, welcomed, and entirely up to you. Don't be shy.     As always: enjoy. 

      


    Sonic the Hedgehog is not my creation, 

    His story belongs to the Sega Corporation. 

    This fanfic is made with humble intention, 

    To honor their art and brilliant invention. 

    ~ Lael Adair 

      


* * *

  
  
  


    V : It's Just a Game 

       
"First the doctor told me the good news: I was going to have a disease named after me." 

    ~ Steve Martin 

      
  

    I hate doctor's offices, they're stuffy and uncomfortable. I hate how they put stuff in the waiting room to make you feel better. Toys for the kids, televisions for the adults, magazines for the old farts . . . all to try and make you forget there's something wrong with you. I'm sitting in the farthest corner from nurse's desk, my earrings jingling because I'm bobbing my leg.     People say that nervous habits are genetic, but I'll be the first one to tell you that becoming a thief automatically gets you one. You know the international symbol for money? Rubbing the first and middle finger against the thumb? I guarantee you it was invented by a thief. Every thief has his nasty nervous twitch that he gets in anticipation of victory: Playing with the hair, chewing on the tongue, biting the nails . . . mine happens to be the infamous "leg bob." Yup, I'm the guy you hate sitting in front of in the theater because his bobbing leg keeps moving your seat. Problem is, you can always tell when I'm doing it because the rings in my ears jingle whenever I move, making it two annoyances for the price of one.     I glance around the waiting room for the tenth time. Guardian I'm so nervous. The old lady across the aisle keeps looking at me like I'm gonna pull out a nine and rob the doctor's office. The kid next to her keeps gaping at my piercings and asking her in hushed tones if he can have one.     I hate going out in public.     "Manic?"     The hot nurse at the door calls out my name, and in a chorus of jangling earrings and creaking leather, I get up and follow her towards the back. She leaves me in a nice furnished room at the end of the hall, giving me a good view of her ass before she shuts the door. Too bad I'm too freaked out to pay any attention. The room doesn't look at all like your typical examining room. It's got thick plush carpet, fine leather furniture, and a great view in the background. I guess, though, that all makes sense since according to Sonia this isn't a real doctor's office anyway.     "Ahh Manic!" a cheery voice comes from the door. I turn from nervously pacing the floor to see Pols, my hypnotist, come in the room.     If anyone ever tells you hypnotism doesn't work, don't believe them. I speak from experience when I say that it helped me out of one of the hardest and darkest times in my life. And contrary to what my sister thinks, it's not all hocus pocus and magic spells. There's really merit to the stuff.     Pols gives me a warm smile even though I'm sure he's noticed how shaken I am. I know from experience that the guy doesn't miss much. Which can be really frustrating when you're trying to steal the gold fountain pens decorating his desk. "Haven't seen you in a while!" He glances down his glasses, "I hope to Guardian that's a good thing?"     "Yeah" I force a laugh, trying to keep my mind focused. I pull out my pockets to show that I haven't taken anything from his office.     He chuckles at my joke and then notices the circles under my eyes. This time his expression does turn concerned. "And, the other problem?"     It takes me a while to figure out what he's talking about. "Oh!" I reply quickly. "No, I don't deal anymore, and I've been clean for almost a year now."     "Well congratulations, my boy." He glances down and notices that I'm wringing my hands nervously. "There something you want to talk about?"     I swallow, "Yeah, sorry. I . . . I'm not too keen on having to do this." I shudder at the thought of having to explain what just happened. "Uh . . . Everyone else I've told has figured me nuts."     Pols calmly takes a seat behind his large desk. "Well, that's the one thing I'm _not _going to do, so you don't have to worry about that. Why don't you have a seat and tell me what's bothering you."     I nod and jerkily grab one of the nearby chairs. They're nice, genuine leather bound with professional stitching, and really comfortable. I had thought about stealing them once but they were too big to get out the door.     I clear my throat and wring my hands one last time. I'm still not happy about having to do this, but I don't know where else to go.     "I . . . I know you're probably not the guy to see about this stuff, but I figured, being a hypnotist, you'd know a little bit about other things like this . . ." And with that, I jump straight into my explanation, never stopping once until I get the whole story out. I tell him everything. From the chase through the woods that started all this shit, all the way to the event just a while ago that sent me here. The more I talk, the worse I get. By the end I'm shaking and stuttering all over again, the fear magnified with retelling the tale.     ". . . and he SPOKE to me! The little shit actually spoke to me! He's ignored me this whole time! And his freaky-ass eyes just slid towards me! AT ME! You know what I think it is?! Karma. Oh yeah! I'm getting paid back for all that stuff I stole!"     "Manic" Pols says patiently, "I don't think --- "     "That's the only explanation! That's the only thing it could be! The little shit's gonna haunt me a year for everything I've taken. Shit! That's like . . . six thousand years!"     "Manic! I don't think that's the reason. Now calm down. Panicking isn't going to solve anything."     "Easy for you to say! You don't have some sadistic little shit following you around everywhere you go!"     Pols just looks at me with that patient stare all doctors seem to be born with. "If you don't stop shouting, I'm not going to help you."     "Ok, I'm sorry." I raise a shaky hand to run through my spiked hair. It doesn't get very far. I almost end up losing the glove on my hand to my hair gel. "I just . . . I just want this to go away. So how do we deal with this?"     "Ah ah, Manic. What's the first thing I've always told you: I can show you the path, but I can't help you take it. This is not about _we_, this is about _you_. You have a problem that you, ultimately, must solve. The only thing I can do is push you in the right direction."     "Why don't you just shoot me up with something to make me forget?" I ask caustically.     Damn me and my tongue.     Pols raises an eyebrow. "That's not how it works and you know it. Now, you believe this to be a ghost?"     "Yes! I've told you everything, wouldn't you think that's what it was?! It's not a hallucination, if that's what you're thinking. A hallucination can't do half the stuff I've seen that little shit do, I can tell you that!"     "Oh I believe you. Or at least, I believe that is what _you _believe."     "What?"     "Never mind. Going back to what you first said: you were right, Manic. I don't know hardly anything about the paranormal. Just because hypnotism is unorthodox does not automatically mean it deals with ghosts and the supernatural. However, if I were to treat this, I would look at it from the other angle. Why do you think this creature is following you?"     "If I knew that, I would have gotten rid of the fucker a long time ago!"     "Language, Manic. Now be serious. Think. Why, out of all the beings on Mobius, has this spectre chosen to follow you around?"     "Because I was stupid enough to try and help it, that's why! This is what I get for trying to be nice."     Pols shifts his shoulders. Apparently, I'm not going wherever it is I'm supposed to go. He decides to change angles. "What was this ghost doing when you found it?"     ". . . . It was crying."     "Why?"     "It had lost something. Something it couldn't save."     "Do you think it's possible it wanted help?"     "I tried to help it! I just told you that! When I got close it went berserk and attacked me!"     "No, Manic. Not that kind of help. I meant did you try to help it with its problem?"     "Huh?"     Pols leans forward on the desk and touches the tips of his fingers together. "I'm going to be honest with you, Manic. I think this is a hallucination. I know you think it's real, but first of all there is no such thing as ghosts. Secondly, even if there were, everyone knows that Tails and Sonic both died honorable deaths defending the kingdom. There would be no reason for their souls to be tortured in this manner.     "Now, normally I would not recommend humoring the hallucinations in the interest of maintaining sanity, but I know for a fact that your sanity is not in jeopardy. This leads me to believe that in your case, this may be a seriously delayed symptom of overcoming your recent drug addiction. I think you are still struggling with the addiction in your mind, and your subconscious has manifested this struggle into some physical form that you can identify with."     I lean forward in the chair. "What the hell did you just say?"     Pols sighs. "Never mind. Let's just deal with the situation in front of us. Now, I think this creature is stuck in a loop. From what you have told me, it seems that the circumstances of its death were so traumatic that the being is forced to relive them over and over again. There's a very similar condition called Post Traumatic Stress Disorder that occurs in war veterans and crime victims. Rest assured there are not many cases around today since those barbaric times are behind us, but I have seen a few of them.     "I think this spirit chose you because it wants someone to right what was wrong with its death. For whatever reason, this creature feels that its demise should have gone another way. And since it can no longer act, being deceased, it is actually not haunting you, it is trying to get you to help it. I think that if you approach this ghost the next time it appears and become a character in its 'play,' then you can trick it into acting out an alternate ending. Hopefully one that will be decidedly happier than its true death."     "So, you're saying . . . you want me to play with it?"     "Exactly. From what you've described, this creature sounds like it still has the mind of a child, prone to tantrums and outbursts of emotion. It is possible that the trauma of death has stripped the being's mind to an extent, rendering him confused and unable to execute mature thought processes. My suggestion: Go along with what it wants and pretend to do whatever it needs you to. Only then will the spirit feel it has been reconciled and move on."     I let out a tired sigh. I am so sick of dealing with ghosts I could puke. "I can't believe I'm actually agreeing to this. All right. I'll give it a shot. I'll do _anything _if it gets that thing out of my life!" With those gallant words, I stand from the nice, comfortable chair and head towards the door.     "Good luck, Manic" Pols calls after me, "and remember, you're in control."     "Yeah right" I mutter under my breath. 

      


* * *

  
  
  
    I like the opening speech. Oh, and just so you know: I've never been a thief, I've never met a hypnotist, I don't know a thing about ghosts, I've never met a drug dealer, and I've never studied psychology. I'm making all this stuff up using common sense, some personal theories, and maybe some tidbits from things I've read. I think the best stories are the ones that have some hard thought behind them.     I don't know about you, but the mental image of Manic trying to get a huge leather chair out of an office makes me laugh.     Can you guys tell that I taught myself some html? Ha ha, this chapter looks a lot nicer, huh. Took me forever to get it right the first time (~cough~ experimented on chapter 1 ~cough~) but once I got the hang of it, it wasn't too bad. The next chapter should be up pretty soon. I'm moving back up to college this week, so I don't know if I'll be _exactly_ on time, but I'm going to throw August 29 out there as a date. Once again, thanks for all the responses. Glad you guys like it so far. 


	6. Shall We Play?

    Curse the person who came up with the blaster worm! May all of your children be born as blind maggots and your body become a feast for lice! My university's internet system has been down all week due to that damn worm. Fortunately, the internet came back on just a few hours ago so I can still update on time. Anyway, hope you like this chapter. Well, hope you like all the chapters so far, but I hope you like this one just as much as those, if not more.     As always: enjoy! 

      

    Oh wait! Almost forgot. If the creator of the blaster worm is reading this, I'd like to say that I'm running Windows ME. You missed me! ~best Nelson laugh~ Ha ha! 

      


    Sonic the Hedgehog is not my creation, 

    His story belongs to the Sega Corporation. 

    This fanfic is made with humble intention, 

    To honor their art and brilliant invention. 

    ~ Lael Adair 

      


* * *

  
  
  


    VI : Shall We Play? 

      
"Angels and ministers of grace defend us! 

    Be thou a spirit of health or goblin damn'd, 

    Bring with thee airs from heaven or blasts from hell, 

    Be thy intents wicked or charitable, 

    Thou comest in such a questionable shape 

    That I will speak to thee: " 

    ~ Hamlet 

      
  

    It doesn't take long for Tails to find me on my way home. Pols' idea seemed like a really good one when I was sitting in the warm comfort of his cozy office. Now that I'm actually faced with the two-tailed terror from hell, though, it seems like a suicide pact. I remember what happened the last time I spoke to Tails. I almost ended up skewered on the end of his hand! And I'll be damned if I die of anything but old age. 

      

    The eerily familiar chill of soul-freezing cold snakes up my neck, telling me that Tails is nearby. As if in answer to my thoughts, a raspy voice cuts through the air.     "Please! Don't hurt him!"     "Oh Guardian" I mutter, "here we go." Somehow, I'm not feeling particularly brave. "Come on, Manic!" I hiss to myself. "Be a man!"     "Don't hurt him!"     Okay, there's line two. A few more and then it's the moment of truth.     I step off to the side and start leading Tails towards a more secluded area. I don't want anyone to walk by and think I'm carrying on a conversation with myself.     "Please! Don't hurt him!"     While Tails goes through the rest of the scene, I try and figure out when I should step in. The last time I interrupted Tails in his 'routine,' I ended up with a raging psycho ghost on my ass all the way through the forest. Maybe this time, I should wait until after he 'dies' before I bother him. I mean, to his mind, he's already dead, so what would he possibly have to go berserk about?     "SONIC! NO!!!"     "All right, Manic. Here we go. Guardian, I hope this works. . . ."     "Sonic no! He lied to me . . . he tricked me. . . ."     Moment of truth. . . .     BANG!     Sonic's head goes flying off in another direction and Tails falls to the ground, that same sickening expression of horrified shock frozen on his childish features. I clench and unclench my hands nervously for a few seconds. He didn't speak to me . . . at least that's a good sign. I can feel cold sweat running down the middle of my back underneath my leather jacket. This is it, it's now or never. Very quietly, I kneel down next to Tails.     "Hey!" I call. My heart sinks. There's no response. He's just lying there with his eyes held wide open.     "Shit. Now what do I --- " My breath catches in my throat as Tails' pupils slowly move to look at me. A surge of hope rips through my stomach . . . or maybe that's my lunch . . . I can't really tell. It takes me a few seconds to find my voice. "A-are you all right? You must have hit your head pretty hard there. How long have you been out?"     The large bluish-silver eyes blink slowly and then Tails sits up. He stares around confusedly for a few seconds, almost like someone in a coma finally awakening from his long sleep, and then stares right at me. "I . . . I don't know. Did I hit my head?"     Oh Guardian. It spoke to me. Shit. "Uh, yeah. Right there towards the back, can you feel it?"     Tails brings a shaky hand up to touch his head. His fingers pass right through his own skull, but he doesn't seem to notice. "Yeah" he mutters. He almost sounds surprised. "I can feel it. It hurts."     "What's your name, kid?" I wait in suspense. Now I'll find out if I really was right this whole time.     "Tails."     Score one for me. "How did you get way out here, Tails? What happened?"     Large silver tears suddenly well up in the kid's eyes. I can actually see the pain set in on his face. He tries to tell me what went wrong, but he has a hard time getting the words out between his sobs. "I . . . Sonic and I were trying to . . . and he . . . it's all my fault! Robotnik wanted the Chaos Emerald! He said he'd let Sonic go if I gave it to him! He lied to me! He tricked me! Oh Sonic! I'm so sorry!" The kid breaks down into racking sobs, hugging his shaking body as if it's going to fly apart.     I try to comfort the kid as best I can, but I keep my hands away. I'm afraid if he sees his body pass through mine, he may figure out he's actually dead and go ballistic on me.     "Hey Tails" I soothe, "come on. I'm sure it wasn't your fault. And I'm sure that Sonic wouldn't have wanted you to sit here feeling sorry for him."     Tails gives a sniffle and wipes a tear away from underneath one of his big, blue eyes. "No. No, you're right. But, I . . . I just don't know what to do without him. I don't think I'm strong enough."     The kid seems reluctant, scared, but it's no problem for me. A drug dealer has to be good at convincing people they need to do something they really don't, especially kids. Kids are the easiest sell. They're young, naive, impressionable, and they're willing to do whatever it takes to get the money so long as you suggest it. They see someone older and they automatically look up to them, even if they don't admit it. They think you care about them, they think you want what's best for them, they think you'll love them better than their parents. _You just trust me kid, this stuff is all you need. And when you want more, all you have to do is find me. Don't worry, I'll be there for you._ It's a lie. I was nothing but an illegal car salesman. I didn't give a shit about them. Any of them. It was nothing but business, and it tears me up to admit I was really good at it. I know their names, they started returning to my memory when I began rehab. Their faces came back to me too . . . those still haunt me.     "Well, what if I help you instead?" I ask, pushing aside a few images I'd much rather forget. "Together, you and I can go give Robotnik what for once and for all! What do you say? We'll do it for Sonic!"     The kit's ghostly blue eyes look right at me, radiating all the love and trust I've seen so many times before and never deserved. And for the first time ever, I see a smile break out on Tails' tortured, see-through face.     "You'd help me?"     "Yeah," I answer "I'll be there for you." And you know . . . this time, I actually meant it. "The name's Manic. And you and me, kid, we're gonna go raise some hell!"     The fox jumps up, whirling his two tails excitedly. "Yeah! Come on! We've got to hurry! If Robotnik uses the power in that emerald, he could destroy the entire planet!" The teen revs up his tails in a whirlwind and takes off like a shot. 

      

    It takes all my strength and then some to keep up, but somehow I manage it. We run forever --- over the hill and through the woods to be shamefully cliché --- and a bit too long for my unexercised body's liking. After a while, Tails whirls to a stop in front of a large cave with an entrance completely covered in moss and spider webs. It's probably someplace he used to play in as a boy when he was alive. All I have to do is go in, defeat the "bad guy" and come back out. Piece of cake.     "Here's Robotnik's hideout" Tails whispers. "We have to be really careful. He's got all kinds of SWATs around here, and tons of deadly traps. See that camera up there?" He points to a blank spot high on the cave's wall. "Don't let it see you or else we're done for!"     I nod, playing along with him even though there's no camera there. "Ok, I'll tell you what, Tails. You go first, and I'll follow exactly behind you. You're a better adventurer than me, so you'll be able to tell where all the traps are. How's that sound?"     His ears perk up and he smiles. I can tell he's really pleased to be put in charge. "Ok! I'll go first. Don't worry, just follow me."     Vaguely, I wonder if Sonic heard the same thing before he was parted from his head.     Tails presses his body low to the ground, his large ears flat against his head, and slowly starts to inch his way through the dark cave. I follow him to the letter, humoring him by taking every single stop, twist, and turn that he does. The kid's eyes are better than mine, either because he's a fox or because he's dead, so he actually does comes in handy when we have to navigate large obstacles in the way.     While we're moving, I glance up at the ceiling of the cave. It's covered with hundreds of those pokey rock things that caves are notorious for. Stalactites? Stalagmites? I could never keep the damn things straight. Anyway, there's lots of them. The sound of dripping water is everywhere, enough so to give a pretty good impression of why the chinese water torture method works so well. The hollow _drip drip _is soothing at first, but after a while it starts to grate on your nerves.     We wind through a twisting, winding network of tunnels, some of them so decayed that they crumble underneath our feet as we pass. It's a good thing I've got this freaky ghost to guide me. Without him, I'd never make my way in and out of here. 

      

    It takes longer than I expected to get where Tails wants to go, but eventually I see a serene green glow start to mist through the thick darkness surrounding us. The farther we go, the brighter the light becomes until I can clearly see it pulsing against the slimy walls of the stone. Not only that, but I swear it's getting colder. Not an outside cold like on your skin, but a chill that coats your insides.     Suddenly, Tails stops and I'm forced to grab onto a nearby stalagacitite-whatever to keep from going through him. He crouches down and crawls to a nearby rock formation large enough for both him and me to hide behind. As I'm following him, I catch a quick glimpse of the room beyond. It's a huge round chamber with a really low ceiling. I bet I couldn't stand on Tails' shoulders without brushing my head against it . . . not like I'd do that anyway, I'd fall right through the kid. A bright, green glow from something in the center of the room is lighting up the area, pulsing calmly in and out in a steady beat. Along the walls, I catch sight of what looks to be several small jewels, one of which looks like the gem I saw Tails hand over to Robotnik in his play. Unlike the jewel in Tails' play, however, these are most definitely real.     "Tails!" I hiss to him excitedly, "Are those the Chaos Emeralds?!"     The fox nods fearfully. "See the green light shining from the middle? That means the Master Emerald is there too."     I try not to, but I can't help gasping out loud in awe. To think! The Master Emerald! The treasure that no one's been able to find ever since the Almighty ascended back into Heaven!     Tails shoots me an annoyed glance over his shoulder and holds a finger for me to be quiet. Once we're behind the rock, he turns to me and rasps in my ear.     "There" Tails whispers, pointing a shaky thumb over his shoulder. "Robotnik's main control room is right behind us. I don't see Snively or Cluck around . . . he must be alone."     I have no clue who Snively or Cluck are, but it doesn't really matter. This is all just pretend anyway. "Ok. So, what's the move?"     Tails turns to me scared as all hell, which is really funny considering he's a ghost. "I don't know. I . . . I can't think."     I glance down at his hands. They're shaking like crazy. On the outside, I give him my best smile to make him shut up and tell me what to do. Internally though, you can bet I'm laughing my ass off. It's about time that little fuck got some payback for all the hell he's caused me.     "Look" I whisper, "Nothing's gonna go wrong. We'll bust in there, take care of Robotnik, and then bust out. We'll do it for Sonic."     Tails looks at me like I'm insane, which is also really funny considering I'm talking to a hero that's been dead and rotting for over four-hundred years. "Are you nuts?!" he hisses. "That's suicide! Not even Sonic would bust in on Robotnik! We don't even know if he's in there!"     "Well" I smirk, getting to my feet, "There's only one way to find out!"     With that, I leap out into the open. 

      

    It's only after I land in front of a huge shifting mass of darkness with two glowing, blood-red eyes that I start to think this might not be a game after all. 

      


* * *

  
  
  
    Manic's "dealer speech" was an add-in done at the very last second. The thing just wrote itself. I don't know why, but when I stepped back and read the whole thing, it really got to me.     I'd give you a date for the next update, but as I mentioned above, my university's internet system is screwed up so I don't know if it will be on the fritz or not. I'll try to get it up within the week, though, if the system lets me. 


	7. Found and Lost

This is it, the final chapter, the conclusion to Eternity. Enjoy the ride.

Sonic the Hedgehog is not my creation,  
His story belongs to the Sega Corporation.  
This fanfic is made with humble intention,  
To honor their art and brilliant invention.  
- Lael Adair -

* * *

VII : Found and Lost 

"And I'll be damned if I die of anything but old age." 

- Manic Hedgehog

"Holy SHIT!"

The mass turns towards me immediately. Its body is like a large chunk of impossibly black smoke, constantly shifting and churning in a sickening display. Sometimes pieces of it take a solid form, and I can catch flashes of rotting black teeth, skeletal hands, and nails the size of rapiers. Arms and legs erupt from the center mass, turning solid for a few seconds and then collapsing once again into intangible smoke. From the very center of the disgusting cloud the darkness makes a kind of hissing noise--likean angry snake--and its glowing red eyes, the two things on its entire body that never change, stare a fire into me hotter than hell itself.

"It's Robotnik!" Tails shrieks. The cry is laced with an otherworldly terror.

I'm afraid, but not enough to not argue. "That can't be Robotnik!" I shout over the increasingly loud hissing. "He was a human!"

The hissing from the mass expands in response, and as I strain to listen, I realize that the thing is slowly struggling to form words. What it finally manages to choke out is recited with such bitter scorn that it spans all the breadths of Hell:

_Though power grace your mortal shape_

_Accursed form your flesh will take_

_So that the evil you so served_

_Now shapes the body you deserve_

It gives another bitter laugh that feels more ironic than anything else, and then focuses its glowing eyes on Tails. I hadn't noticed it, but when I jumped out, the clever little guy was already trying to move around to the thing's back and attack it unprepared.

"Tailssssss" the mass hisses in amusement. The kid snaps his head towards it like a child who's just been caught sneaking a cookie. He freezes in the shadows along the side wall which he was trying to use as cover to sneak up on the thing. I don't know why the kid even bothered. His glowing body gives him away anyway.

The smoky mass lazily holds up a long, misshapen hand, palm out, towards Tails. "It's been sssssso long. . . . You haven't changed a bit."

With a 'come hither' like gesture of Robotnik's smoky, gnarled fingers, Tails is suddenly lifted off his feet and snapped from the wall to be brought into the light of the Master Emerald's glow. He halts just a few inches before Robotnik's outstretched fingers, suspended by some invisible energy. The Master Emerald has turned an aggressive red color, though it's still pulsing in perfect time with Robotnik's deep red eyes. I'm left standing in the background completely forgotten by the two enemies from lore of times past.

Tails looks even whiter than usual as he struggles in midair against Robotnik's invisible hold. Even from where I'm standing some distance away, I can see that he's shaking. Without warning, Robotnik gives an evil laugh and a scream suddenly rips from the kid's lungs. The sound is so agonizing that it actually sends a streaking ache up my own spine. Tails' back arches in pain and he squirms to try and escape the torture, but Robotnik's got a firm hold on him. That kid's not going anywhere. For no reason whatsoever, a picture of Tails when I first met him suddenly jumps into my head. As I stand helpless and watch him squirm, all I can see is him kneeling vulnerably on the ground, his bony, innocent shoulders heaving in unrestrained grief.

"Tails!" I cry out. The sound of my own voice startles me. "Hold on! I'm coming!"

I take a step towards him but that's as far as I get. Before I have time to move any further, the kid starts to melt like a fucking snow cone. His shrieks increase to an impossible pitch. My vision goes blurry even though I don't give a damn about him. Unable to stand it anymore, I wrench my eyes shut and turn away. I know ghosts are dead, and they're not supposed to feel pain, but I swear in the eternity it took that kid to turn to mush, he died a thousand deaths and then some. After what seems like forever, the last of Tails' whines of agony finally fade away to nothing.

A single tear falls to the floor. I am so dead.

The shade gives a hearty laugh and flexes the smoky hand it used to melt Tails. "It's been sssso long since I've been able to do that." It turns towards me. "There's nothing quite like the feeling of a life draining away under the power of your fingers." The words are said with an edge, almost as if it expects me to find meaning in them. I just stand there with my mouth open like a moron. Robotnik stares at me for a few seconds, his burning eyes calmly pulsing in and out in time with the Master Emerald. I try staring right back at him, but the mere sight of his disgusting, shifting body reminds me of churning vomit, and I end up looking away. "It's not real" I whisper to myself, my voice quaking and meek. "It can't be real."

The thing lets out a grinding hiss that I guess is supposed to be a laugh. "Oh, I assure you rodent. I am quite real." It gives a flick of its misshapen hand and four long claws flare out with a soft metallic _shing. _"Do you know how long I've been here?"

The question's loaded. I've been to enough police interrogations to be able to tell.

I swallow and take a step back, slowly making my way towards the exit. Try as I might, I can't seem to find my voice. The image of Tails melting on the ground keeps distracting me. Eventually, I settle for just shaking my head no.

The shade gives a wry smile and watches sadly as its misshapen claws melt back into its smoky body. "I've been here forever. Ever since the day I killed that fucking hedgehog."

I feel heat begin to boil up from my toes. How dare he talk about Sonic that way! It's his damn fault I'm here! It's entirely his damn fault that my life has been a living hell for the past three weeks!

"Liar!" my voice explodes from me in anger. "Sonic's a hero! You didn't kill him! He killed you! Impaled you on the Sword of --- "

"Brainlessssss fool!" Robotnik interrupts, straightening himself to a bigger height. "Sonic died on his knees, his throat slit by my own two hands! I had done it! I had finally won! All the emeralds were mine, their power was mine! I had it all! My only mistake was killing that fucking echidna! I had no way of knowing that his death would make ME the new Guardian! And now I'm stuck in this godforsaken cave, bound to protect these fucking emeralds for all eternity: An immortal GUARD DOG! I was so close! SO CLOSE!" The stone walls rattle with Robotnik's anger, dislodging a few rocks in the process.

I can't think of anything else to do but argue. "You don't fool me!" I holler back. My voice sounds absolutely pathetic compared to the deep bellow of Robotnik's. "Knuckles is a god! There was no way you could have killed him!"

"A god?" the shade laughs in its dry, scratchy voice. It throws a horrible mouth filled with twisted black teeth upward and cackles like a hoard of crows. "That idiotic echidna? Knuckles! A god!"

"Hey!" My fists clench, and then I falter. As someone who's never worshipped the Almighty in my life, I suddenly feel very, very stupid defending him.

It's not until then that I realize Robotnik has been advancing on me inch by inch during the entire conversation. I finally glance straight at him, trying hard to keep my lunch in my stomach, and his blood-red eyes shine hungrily in the dim light of the emeralds' glow.

"Well, I could care less" he hisses, licking his lips with a smoky, forked tongue. "It looks like my time of deliverance has come." He glances up and down me, eyeing me like a brand new suit in a store window, and sneers distastefully. "I don't care much for the body. . . ." His smoky fist clenches in silent rage. "Curse you Sonic. Even in death you torment me to no end. . . . But, I suppose beggars can't be chosers."

I start backing up. "Well, isn't that a nice little moral for today" I manage to stutter. "Tell you what, I'm gonna go ponder that for a while, and then I'll come back when I've realized the full, deep potential of its meaning and found a way to incorporate it into my life." I turn to leave, but the shade slithers like a snake and materializes in front of me. Two grotesque claws with scythe-like fingers slowly stretch from its body, inching their way closer and closer to my skin.

"Oh no" the mass hisses. "I'm afraid you can't leave. You see, I'm tired of having all these powers and not being able to use them." It glances down in loathing at its horrifying, misshapen self. "In this wretched body, I'm bound to the emerald." Its eyes look up again, even more hungry than before. "But in another, well, I'm sure you get the idea." Its index finger extends out, reaching to brush my cheek. "Just one little touch. . . ."

"Fuck this!" I leap back, just barely escaping his extended reach, but my back slams hard into a wall before I get two feet. The bastard's got me cornered.

He chuckles at me, and for a moment the large body of shifting black mass expands and manages to hold a solid shape. Before me, I see the image of a human with a broad mustache and an even broader girth. A glint of red light from the Master Emerald catches his left arm almost as if it's made of metal. Even having never seen a picture of him, I know exactly who it is I'm looking at: Julian Robotnik.

This must have been exactly what Sonic saw right before he died.

I keep shoving backwards, pushing myself deep into the wall even though I've got nowhere to go. The swirling black claws inch closer and closer to my face. My own frightened reflection stares back at me in Robotnik's pulsing red eyes. A laugh sounds through the caves. A laugh that I've heard over and over again in Tails' play, mocking me like it once did him as he lay bleeding, dying on the cold ground . . . and now I'm about to join him.

"No!" I scream. "This isn't how I'm going to go out!" I don't know if the words fuel something deep within me or something deep within me fuels the words, but for whatever reason, a strength starts to flow through my veins. Without even thinking about it, I crouch down and roll off to the side, missing Robotnik's raking claws by not even an inch. The second I get to my feet, I haul ass for the exit as if the entire police force of Mobius were after me --- as they once were, I should mention.

"Oh no you don't!" Robotnik screams. He raises his two smoky arms that have dissolved back into nothing and a thick stone wall springs up in my way like a flower. In two swift movements learned from dodging the police my entire life, I spin on my feet and avoid busting my head on the wall. Robotnik may be dead, and he may have the power of all the legendary emeralds flowing through him, but I'll bet to hell he's never tangled with a thief before!

"You can't escape from me, rodent!" Robotnik howls. "The emeraldssss are mine to control! And in this cave, that means the very rocks bow to my will!" A long tentacle made of solid stone lashes out from one of the side walls and moves to cut me off. I turn sideways and drop, skidding under the lashing vine like it was a chain link fence. The second I get on my feet, a patch of spike-shaped rocks erupts from the ground before me. I push off with a mighty leap and perform a clean flip right over them.

Robotnik soon learns why the police have never been able to catch me. I twist and spin through every obstacle he throws in my way; from rolling boulders to shifting floors, to moving vines that race to entangle my legs. No matter what he can create, I can dodge it. Unfortunately, while playing keep-away from Robotnik is child's play for me, I can't seem to get out. The bastard keeps blocking all the exits with traps, leaving me with nothing to do but run around in circles like a hamster in a wheel.

"Sssssstand still you little shit!"

I laugh like I used to do at the chief of police. "Yeah right! You wanna catch me! You're gonna have to get _waaay _better than this!"

I dodge another rock-shaped vine and keep running, hoping that this time around he'll make a mistake and leave me an opening to get out of this fucking chamber. He doesn't. Just as I leap over a large batch of spikes flaring up in my way a stray vine that I wasn't watching catches my ankle. I fall to the ground flat on my face and the vine quickly starts to work its way up my leg. With a shriek of delight, Robotnik throws his hands over his head and creates a massive ball of spitting electricity between them. Cackling horribly he wastes no time in sending it my way. I kick at the rock snaking up towards my knee and desperately try to roll to the side. The vine's too short . . . I can't move enough to get out of the way! My eyes go wide, reflecting the electric ball spiraling towards me. This is it.

With a horrified gasp, Robotnik finally realizes he's about to destroy his only ticket to ever living again. He reaches out his smoky hands towards the electric sphere. In response to his call, the energy mass swerves up at the last second and smashes into the ceiling, sending a gush of statically charged wind blowing into my face.

As much as I'm tempted to sit there dumb-struck, the thief in me that's kept me from jail for so long lashes out and grabs a sharp rock. No sooner is the tentacle around my ankle smashed when a soft explosion sounds to my right and I'm thrown back down. Propped on my elbow, I brace my other hand on the ground to keep from hitting my head. A powerful beam of sparkling light blasts through the air around me and I shut my eyes to keep from going blind.

Somewhere in between catching my breath and protecting my vision, I stand to my feet. The light beyond my closed eyelids goes out and then I slowly open them and turn around. Not ten feet away from me, something is standing on an upraised piece of stone that wasn't there before.

My jaw drops to the floor.

There, bathed in a showering ray of golden light, is Sonic the Hedgehog himself. His back is straight in a regal pose with his fists clenched and ready for action. The long blue spines on his head and back are waving softly as if stirred by a gentle breeze, and his ears are straight and alert. His body's a little see-through since he's obviously a ghost; but unlike Tails, who was a pasty, sickly off-white, Sonic is surrounded with a golden hue that adds a little tint to his characteristic blue color. With a slow turn of his proud head, he brings his emerald eyes shining with justice and truth to rest on me.

I feel like I'm looking at the Almighty himself. If I wasn't being chased by a psychopathic cloud of chimney smoke, I'd drop down on my knees in Sonic's shadow. The name of time and legend; the master of speed; the defender of freedom, justice and truth; the Hero of All Mobius, Sonic Hedgehog, is standing right in front of me, looking me directly in my unworthy eyes.

"My Guardian" is all I can think to say.

Robotnik lets out a terrible wail. "SONIC! NO! IT CAN'T BE!"

Sonic smirks and turns towards Robotnik, his large quills flaring out challengingly. "Believe it, Robotnik! I'm back and blue, and I'm gonna take you down!"

In a flash of blue so bright it outshines the light of the Master Emerald, Sonic revs up and takes off at a dead run towards Robotnik. The inner darkness of the mass now making up Robotnik's body begins to twirl and spin in anger, like a furious tornado seeking to destroy everything in sight. With a guttural growl, Robotnik throws out his arms and they morph into two long tentacles. He cackles like a maniac and then throws them over his head and starts to sway his arms, swinging the tentacles around like two deadly whips. Sonic skids to a stop a few feet from Robotnik when he sees the weapons. A devilish grin spreads across his face and he shifts his weight to his back foot in anticipation of the fight. In a flash, the first tentacle comes down on him and Sonic quickly performs a somersault in the air to leap over it. Before the thing even has time to strike the floor, the second whip comes around and a breathtaking game of cat and mouse begins.

Watching them fight is poetry in motion, that's the only way I can think to describe it. I know this is quite possibly a matter of worldwide chaos, and I really shouldn't be enjoying it, but just watching Sonic in action sends chills up and down my spine. His speed is so incredible . . . I can only tell where he is by the blurry ball of blue light dipping in and out between the frantic slashing of the charcoal smoke. He dodges each and every blow perfectly, more than perfectly; never once even getting touched by the dangerous whip-like arms.

"I killed you once" Robotnik hisses through a grotesque mouth, "and I can do it again!"

Sonic dips to the right, barely missing a slashing tentacle, and then he skids to a quick stop. A laugh erupts from him like he's just been told the most hilarious joke in the world. "What are you talking about, Robotnik!" Within the blink of an eye, Sonic makes one last leap over a pending attack and pulls back for an awesome punch to Robotnik's gut. Time slows down as he brings back his arm, the muscles tightening like iron underneath his fur. The fingers clench like stone, the arm straightens, the fist flies through the air with all of Sonic's speed behind it . . . and it goes right through Robotnik's stomach.

Sonic's mouth drops open in shock.

"Hello dumbass!" I call from the sidelines, momentarily forgetting who it is I'm talking to. "You're dead, remember!"

Sonic stands confused for another second, and then looks at me over his shoulder, his green eyes sparkling with mischief. "I'm Sonic the Hedgehog. I never die!"

Great, just great. A supernatural swarm of darkness and death is trying to suck the life from my very bones, and I'm stuck with a ghost in serious denial.

From the depths of Robotnik's black maw, a laughing hiss escapes his throat. "Ssssstupid hedgehog! You're nothing now!" Sonic twirls off to the left as a cracking whip strikes the spot where he was only seconds ago. With a quick flip of his ankle, he catches a rock on his foot and sends it spiraling directly towards Robotnik. The stone bashes through the dark smoke and creates a gaping hole right where Robotnik's heart probably sat when he was human.

Sonic snaps his head around towards me. "Go!" he shouts while jumping over a close call. "Run! I'll keep him busy!"

I don't need anyone to tell me twice. Now that Robotnik's concentration is broken, it's easy to pick my way through all his traps. With two leaps and a quick scaling job learned from climbing barb-wire fences, I vault over two patches of spikes and scramble up a solid rock wall. With that and a bit of running I'm out of the emerald chamber and into the cave's tunnels. Seconds later, I hear an enraged shriek erupt from behind me and the entire cave starts to shake like it's in an earthquake. I increase my speed, my breath coming short the faster I try to run. Before long I hear a soft humming gaining on me. I glance over my shoulder and see Sonic way behind me, running like mad away from the emerald cavern.

"GO!" he screams when my eye catches his. "DON'T LOOK BACK!"

I increase my effort, trying hard to keep from tripping while I sprint through the slimy, twisting tunnels. I have no clue where I'm going. I didn't pay any attention to directions on the way in since I had Tails to guide me. I figure, though, any way other than behind me is a good route to take.

A terrible voice echoes from every direction at once. _You sssssshall not essssscape!_

With that warning, the cave suddenly gives a violent shake sending me completely off my feet. I skid a ways in the dirt, coughing and sputtering as cave-slime and Guardian knows what else finds its way into my mouth. From deep inside the caverns, Robotnik gives a howl of rage more powerful and frightening than all the demons of Hell, and a chasm starts to open in the floor. I spit out what I think is a slug and scramble to try and outrun the crack forming in the stone. Halfway up my foot slips on some cave-slime and one of the cracks catches up to me, sending me careening backwards into nothing. I scream and lash my hands out in a panic, trying desperately to catch something, anything to save myself.

Time moves in slow motion as I tip over the edge just teasingly out of my reach. My fingers claw frantically in the darkness and finally I'm rewarded with the feeling of hard, cold stone underneath them. I tighten my grip against the chasm wall, wincing at the jagged edges of the stone cutting and slashing my hands. The rock whizzes by my eyes as I slide a bit more, but then I get a good hold and I jolt to a stop three feet from the opening. Because I'm stupid, I look down. The only thing separating me and a heart-stopping fall into the black abyss below are my two skimpy little arms.

"NO!" I hear Sonic shout from farther down the tunnel. In a flash, he puts on a burst of speed and devours the distance separating us. Without even slowing down, he leaps over the cavern and skids to a stop at the edge, right above my head.

"Come on!" he yells at me, the cave crumbling all around him. Sonic drops to his knees and leans over into the chasm, his fingers desperately stretching towards mine. "Grab my hand!" With one last glance at the black abyss below me, I reluctantly take one hand off the wall and stretch it towards Sonic. I'm not strong enough to hold myself with just one arm. I start to slide down.

Sonic's eyes go wide with fear when he sees me slip. "Come on! You can do it!" he screams over the terrible roars echoing down the cavern. "Reach!"

I grit my teeth and pull, my arms shaking from the work. Sweat is pouring down my face and stinging my eyes. All the minor injuries I had gotten from running around the cavern are suddenly making themselves known. But I'm doing it. I'm climbing up.

"Just a little farther! Reach!"

With one final strain, our hands clasp in the dark.

I give a heave of relief and look up at him, grimacing and smiling at the same time around all the dust falling from the ceiling.

Sonic smiles back . . . and then his grip on my hand tightens to an impossible strength.

I gasp out loud in pain.

Slowly, haltingly, a lagging thought finally catches up. My mouth falls open.

A gloating laugh sounds through the tunnels, echoing from within Sonic's righteous green eyes . . . and that's when I realize Robotnik can take more than one form.

End

* * *

Now that you know the ending, I would suggest reading the story over again from start to finish. Pay special attention to the chapter titles and (some) of the quotes at the chapter beginnings. Many of them will make more sense the second time around, and you may see things in the characters or the story that you didn't notice before.  
As always, thank you so much for reading. I sincerely hope you enjoyed it and, although I know there was probably more than my fair share of mistakes and foul-ups, I did my very best to bring you my very best. Hopefully, my creation helped to make your day a little brighter. (Or, in this case, maybe a little sadder).

Remember: Words are words. It's what you get _out _of them that makes the difference.

Lael Adair -

* * *

------------ Extras ------------ 

Here at the end is where I put all the little things that have been bottling up during the course of this fanfiction. Think of it as the 'special features' section on your DVD, except this isn't a DVD...yeah. Read if you want. I just think it's interesting. And, hey, I have to do _something _with all the stuff I threw out.

**Author Commentary **

One of the beauties of this fanfiction that I am particularly proud of is that it answers very few questions. It gives you what's there, tells you what happens, and then lets you fill in all the blanks for yourself based upon your opinions. Some of the questions posed: How did the "legend" with Sonic and the others get started? How did it go so misinterpreted and widespread? How is it that the people came to believe Knuckles was a god? And probably the most compelling (now that you know the ending): Was Robotnik assuming the form of Tails' ghost as well to lure Manic in? Or is Tails really a tortured soul, forever mourning the loss of the one person he couldn't save?

I can argue both sides of each of these questions. Quite honestly, I don't even know the real answers. I wrote the story this way on purpose. I wrote it as if I was trying to convince myself of both sides at the same time, and even as the author of this work, I am unclear as to where and how these things came about. I do have some theories, however.

My thoughts: The legend with Sonic probably was true, up to a point. The Freedom Fighters probably really did try to bomb Robotropolis, they probably did get attacked, and Sonic and Tails did die, just not in the way it was said. So often people need a beacon to hold on to, and the little white lie about Sonic's sacrifice may have been started, perhaps by Sally or someone close to her, to help the survivors through the messy cleanup that followed.

Knuckles as a god, I have no idea. I honestly have no clue how that got started. My guess: during the final battle, the people probably saw Knuckles go super. That's the only thing I can think. To someone who didn't know what he was doing, it would look pretty godlike. Robotnik tells us that he killed Knuckles, so the echidna probably died before he could refute the story about him being a god.

About Tails. I can argue both ways, but personally I tend to side with Tails' ghost being authentic. Only because 1: if all Robotnik needed to do was touch Manic, he could have done that as Tails; and 2: Robotnik "killed" Tails' ghost. Those can be easily countered, however. For one, Tails attacked Manic the night they first met. If he needed or wanted Manic's help, why would he attack him? And second: ghosts can't touch, but we all saw that at the beginning, Tails scratched Manic...or did he? Sonia did say they looked like tree branches...

This fanfiction is somewhat anti-Sonic Underground in the respect that I always thought the idea of Sonic having siblings was absolutely ridiculous. More than ridiculous, in fact. Honestly (and this won't be the last time you hear this), I have never seen any company butcher their character so horribly with inconsistencies more than Sega with Sonic the Hedgehog.

In any case, this fanfiction started out not with Manic, but with Tails. Tails was initially going to play the role of Robotnik. Sonic would still die because of him, but instead as Knuckles lay dying, the echidna would ask Tails to take on the position as Guardian. Tails would remain immortal and would spend the rest of his days fighting Robotnik alone. And then after Robotnik died, he would be truly alone, and slowly the years of pain were going to lead him into insanity. An insanity so deep that it would lead him to eventually try and find someone else to take his place by assuming the innocent child of legend and lore and leading the poor dope into the caves.

I thought that was a little evil for Tails' character, so I started looking into other options. Then a stray thought from earlier times entered in my head. "If Manic _wasn't _Sonic's brother, what else could you do with him?"

That's how I fell on the idea of Manic being Sonic's son. But a son would require a mother, and for this fanfiction I really didn't want to get too much into drama. Not to mention the fact that I have a hard time picturing Sonic settling down and making a family. It was then that Manic evolved not into Sonic's son, but a person living in a time when Sonic and Tails and their stories of valor were long since past. A time when tales of Sonic's bravery were legend and lore, and the evil and terror that existed in those dark days were forever gone; far behind in the eyes of the society that emerged in its wake. Manic somewhat looks like Sonic. As he says in his own words, some people claim he's the great-great descendant, though he doesn't believe it. Maybe he his, maybe he's not. In any case, this is the world I decided to throw Manic and his sister, Sonia, into. You have to admit, it _does _make things interesting ;)

Tails then moved from being the villain to the role he ended up with. And Robotnik, more than happily, filled in the vacant position. I initially wasn't going to put Knuckles in there at all. As much as I love the pigheaded ass of an echidna, there really weren't any places for him to fill. I've always wanted to use the Guardian's name as a curse word, so I decided to weave him in so I could finally do it. That's how Knuckles snuck into the story.

Out of everything else, the very last line of the story gave me the most grief. I was surprised at how smoothly this fanfiction flowed off my fingers. I barely had to make any adjustments to the plot, which is unusual for me. The ending, however, was a pain to get to where it is. I knew what I wanted the ending to be. I wanted it to be one line:

_And just as I grab his hand, I look into his eyes, and that's when I realize Robotnik can take more than one form._ Unfortunately, just sticking that last line in made the story sound way too abrupt. I mean, the nature of the ending was supposed to be abrupt given Manic's personality. I wanted him to just look up and think to himself _well damn_, kind of like you do in a tic-tac-toe game when you realize your opponent's just used that move on you where you're screwed no matter what. Yeah, you all know the one. But the story needed more than just that one line. That line could still serve as the ending, but it needed something before it to connect it to the rest of the words. The last paragraph of the fanfiction, starting with Sonic reaching for Manic, underwent dozens of revisions all trying to get the ending _just _right. Long story short, I'm still not happy with it. But, with this ending, I'm closer than I ever got with all the others. It _still _doesn't have that "well damn" feel to it, but it's pretty close.

**Deleted Scenes **

Sonic's transparent green eyes go wide. "What! Knuckles gets to be a god! And I'm stuck like this! Man! That sucks! I'm getting the shaft!" He turns his head towards the ceiling. "Knuckles! If you really are up there, you big cheat, you are SO going to get it! You hear me knucklehead! I'm gonna knock you into next WEEK for this one!"

------------

"Yeah" I answer. "Tails led me here."

Sonic turns away, uninterested. "Yeah, yeah. C'mon. We gotta get out of here."

I probably don't have to tell you how shocked I am to hear Sonic say that. Sonic and Tails were said to be best buds, two friends so close they were brothers in every sense but by blood. I'd think after being dead for hundreds of years that Sonic would leap at the chance to hear some news about Tails. But then again, the legends aren't really turning out exactly the way they were supposed to. Maybe that's something else that was misinterpreted.

------------

"Sonic?"

He turns towards me.

"I wanted to ask you something. Were . . . were you and Sally, uh, you know?"

His right ear twists confusedly. "Sally who?"

My eyes go wide.

"Oh" Sonic says to himself, "Right, the squirrel. Uh . . . I'd rather not talk about it."

Ok, now I'm seriously confused. There's no way the legends could get that wrong, could they? I mean, lovers all over the planet cuddle under the romantic tale of Sonic and Sally and how his sacrifice led them both to realize how much they really loved one another. So many wedding vows have been made under the wishes that they'll be as strong and true as that of the great Hero and the Princess of Acorn. So much has been built upon their tale of how true love conquers all, so many hopes and dreams were forged after their tale, it just, it can't be a lie. Can it?

If Sonic noticed that I was disappointed by his answer, he sure didn't show it. "Hey" he said, snapping his fingers like calling a dog, "Come on, we're wasting time."

------------

Sonic lets out an amused laugh. "You're not one of mine. I never had any kids." He laughs again as if telling a joke, and then adds, "I don't have a dick, and I'm impotent anyway."

Shit. I'm too stunned to even say anything. Things back then must have been _way _different. No self-respecting guy I know would _ever_ say that about himself!

------------

After what seems like forever, the last of Tails' whines of agony finally fade away to nothing. The shade flexes the smoky hand it used to melt the poor kid. "I must be losing my touch" it mutters disappointedly. "Sonic screamed louder."

------------

Most of these were cut because I wanted to make the characters' actions logical, especially Robotnik's. After being trapped in some grimy cave with all these powers and no place to use them, I didn't think Robotnik would screw around with Manic by having conversations with him in Sonic's form. He'd try to touch him the first chance he got. Believe me, I took them out with a heavy heart. The impotent speech cracks me up.

**Fun Facts **

Manic's hypnotist got his name from one of my classes. I was supposed to be planning out my classes for the fall '03 semester in college, but I was writing down ideas instead because I didn't want to do it. (I had this funny conversation in my head about the Quicky Mart karma and wanted to get it down before I forgot.) The name of Manic's physician came from my class notes folder that happened to be nearest to me on the bed: POLS, which is the abbreviation my university uses for political science.

------------

Total Production Time: 7 months  
Start: March 5, 2003  
First Post: July 26, 2003  
Last Post: September 4, 2003

Note that the start date is the day I wrote the first word of the first chapter, _not _the day the idea was originally conceived. Before the story even becomes a story, I open up a file and start dumping tidbits in there kind of like mental table scraps. When I have enough, I put the pieces together and fill in the holes to create a rough skeleton. Then I begin actually writing the work and I flesh it out as I go along. From what I understand, it's not that much different than a painter or an artist: conceive, sketch, flesh out, color, polish, show. I just use a different medium.


End file.
